


Rolling Twelve

by clandestinerabbit



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Post-Canon, Valentine's party, a stupid ex of Maya's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 17:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17832947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clandestinerabbit/pseuds/clandestinerabbit
Summary: When Riley accidentally invites Maya's terrible ex to her annual Valentine's party, Maya decides the best way to avoid the issue is to avoid the party—a brilliant plan that instantly goes to pieces when Josh Matthews, recently returned from seven years working in Africa, mentions he'll be at the party as well. Maya can't stay away after that. Fortunately, since he got her into this mess, he's perfectly willing to get her out...





	Rolling Twelve

Honestly, swear-on-her-mother’s-grave, Maya wouldn’t change anything about Riley. All her genetic Matthews dramatics, all her insistence that she knows what’s right, her flailing long limbs and her complete inability to admit that some clouds don’t have silver linings—take any of them away, and Riley wouldn’t be _Riley_ , aka the best person Maya’s ever known and the best friend she could ever hope to have. This is the honest truth.

But some days.

Some days these things about Riley Maya loved individually combined to make an unholy mess, like what happens if you mix paint with your eyes shut and open them to find that you’ve created something poop-colored. Some days Maya wished, just for a brief second, that Riley lived in the same plane of existence as other people instead of only taking short excursions to the Real World from Rileytown. It would make Maya’s life a lot less interesting, sure. Some days, Maya would take it.

“You did _what_ ,” she gasped, too horrified to even turn it into a question. She literally could not compute.

Face down on the bed, Riley lifted her head from the pillows long enough to say “I accidentally invited Ethan to the Valentine party and he RSVP’d for him and his new wife and I can’t un-invite them I’m sosososo sorry” before diving back in. Her hair spread out around her in a curtain of shame.

Maya carefully put down her paintbrush. “Ethan, as in Ethan who cheated on me and then begged me to take him back? Ethan, who just got married to some tall brunette named _Kyah_?”

Riley’s silence said more than enough. 

“How did this happen, Peaches?”

“Email failed me,” Riley groaned. “I know too many Ethans.”

“So invite the right one, honey.”

“I did. Of course, I did. But I can’t _un_ -invite him now, it would be so rude!”

This was the moment Maya had to close her eyes and remind herself how much she loved her best friend. So much. So, so much. “Riley, I told you I never wanted to see that guy. Didn’t I tell you I’d rather—”

“Go back to high school biology for a year, _with lab_ , than see him again, I know.”

“So why do you think I’m going to be okay with him coming to the party, especially with his new ‘I’m so obviously not Maya’ wife?”

“Weeeeellll...” Huffing, Riley pushed herself onto her knees and brushed her hair back over her shoulders. “I didn’t think you’d be very _happy_ about it, but that was like a year ago and you were totally over him—”

“I _am_ totally over him.”

“If you’re over him, then seeing him shouldn’t bother you! You don’t want to be his wife, so it doesn’t matter if he has one, right?”

“Wrong.”

“But why?”

Maya tried to explain. She really, really tried. But because Riley had only ever had one boyfriend, and because she didn’t really get the concept of mortal enemies, and because Charlie Gardner moved away before he had a chance to make anyone awkward, all Maya’s best efforts went nowhere. At the end of forty-five minutes, they were exactly where they began: Riley insisting she couldn’t un-invite Ethan, Maya 100 percent sure that if Ethan was invited Maya could not attend. 

“Ring power!” she finally shouted, and Riley groaned but crossed her finger over Maya’s obediently.

“Fine, fine. You don’t have to come. It may as well not be a party, but...”

“No no no _no_ you are _not_ going to guilt me into this. You’ll have your other million friends to balance out one missing me.”

“Not even close to the same thing,” Riley said loyally. 

“That’s very true.”

“But if you really won’t come, you won’t come. I don’t want you to be miserable.”

“Thank you,” Maya said, and thought that would be that.

To be honest, she wasn’t _that_ sad about missing the party—too many people she doesn’t like that much in too small a space for too many hours. And Riley doesn’t appreciate it when Maya holes up in the corner with Smarkle, always saying that’s what the post-party Topanga’s meet-up is for. Again, Maya’s good argument—“Farkle and Smackle don’t get to visit very often, we need to make the most of it while they’re here and not in their super-smart scientist subdivision”—meant nothing. So, all things considered, having an excuse to avoid making awkward small talk with Yoby was not the worst thing in the world. 

Until she got a text from a number she regularly forgot she had in her phone:

_Riley said you aren’t coming to the party. Please, I beg you, tell me that isn’t true or I’m going to break my foot so I don’t have to go either.  
_

Josh Matthews, from out of a clear blue sky. Josh Matthews, texting like a normal person instead of using What’s App because he’s in some country she didn’t remember the name of that had terrible service. Josh Matthews, picking up a conversation in the middle like it hadn’t been a year since they said more than _how’s it going? I’m fine_ J. Maya dropped the spoonful of ice cream she had been about to devour into the bowl in her lap, needing two hands to appropriately respond to this earthshattering event.

_Nope_

Stupid, stupid, she told herself sharply, and added:

_Riley invited my ex and his new wife, so I made her give me a pass_

Josh responded instantly, like he had just been waiting to see what she would say:

> _That explains a lot_
> 
> _Wait, what ex?_

_Ethan_ , she said.

> _You broke up with Ethan????_
> 
> _Did I know that and forgot, or did you not tell me?  
> _

Maya bit her lip. Tempting as it was to blame it on him, she knew better.

_Didn’t tell you. I didn’t feel like talking about it_

To you, she silently added. Definitely not to him. In her fragile post-Ethan state the last thing Maya needed was a reminder of how, oh, perfect other men could be.

> _That’s fair_
> 
> _tbh I always thought he was a tool_
> 
> _Just from what you said about him he sounded like he was totally up his own butt_
> 
> _You deserve someone who doesn’t spend more time on his hair and money on his clothes than America’s Next Top Models._

Like that, Maya groaned.

_Yeah, well, I’m over it now_

_But I still don’t want to see him. Or my replacement. And definitely not at a Valentine’s party._

She took a deep breath before asking the next question, the most important question:

_But are you going?_

> _Riley begged me and I caved_
> 
> _I thought at least you and I could hang out in a corner somewhere_
> 
> _But no worries, I’m not really going to break my foot_

_Not good to do that. Not healthy._

_And probably a pain in Swazeeli or wherever_

She wanted to pitch her phone across the room after that text—ten minutes of dithering didn’t make her confident she had actually pulled off the casual vibe she wanted to project, rather than her desperate need to know if he was going to be sticking around or going back to wherever after the holidays. Being a full-blown adult, she merely placed the phone on the couch beside her and choked down a spoonful of ice cream while she waited for the buzz.

> _It would definitely be a pain. But I’m done in Burund **i** , where they speak Swahil **i**. I’m back for good now. Restarting my life, which is gonna be a great time._
> 
> _One of Riley’s arguments re: the party was that I could meet people and make friends, since I’ve been away so long all my old friends will have forgotten me_

Her heart was _not_ beating faster, it was _not_. 

_But all Riley’s friends are going to be too young for you, oh mature man_

> _Not anymore they aren’t_

Oh, forget this. Just, forget the whole freaking thing. He had to know what he was doing, right? What saying that sounded like? If he thought he could just fling the dice like that— This time she did throw her phone, watching it bounce off the thin carpet and land face-up. The screen lit up before she could make it off the couch.

But the message was just Riley with an alert about a Free People sale, and Maya ignored it to text furiously: 

_Why didn’t you tell me Josh was coming back?_

> _Did I not?_

_Don’t go all Jane Austen on me, I’m wise to you. You intentionally didn’t tell me (a) he’s back (b) he’s going to the party.  
_

> _I didn’t think it would make a difference, about the party. You didn’t want to go for a particular reason that my uncle doesn’t have anything to do with._
> 
> _Does he?_

Well, no, of course not. But Josh being there...it might, _maybe_ , almost outweigh the other crap.

_Why would he?  
_

> _Only you can answer that, Maya. And you won’t._

Unfair. She had just been sitting here, eating her ice cream, and she was feeling so attacked right now. The typing dots appeared, which meant Riley was trying to figure out the best way to say what she wanted without making the other person upset. But the message, when it finally appeared, might as well have been the first thing that popped into her head:

> _You know, it’s a buffet. You could still come, if you wanted._

And that was how Maya found herself at Riley’s Valentine party dodging her ex, whose loud donkey laugh at least made him easy to locate. She couldn’t even hide with Farkle and Smackle, since staying in one place raised the chances of Ethan spotting her and deciding to catch up. He was dumb enough—or petty enough—to think it was a good idea. After almost a half-hour of the vanishing act and two bright-red spill near-misses, Maya decided she deserved a break and headed towards the bathroom. She could buy a few minutes in there.

Locking the door behind her with emphasis, she perched on the edge of the tub and yanked her phone from her pocket: 

_If you decided to ditch the party, you might have let a girl know_

_Or did the Matthews being on time gene skip you_

> _That comes from Topanga’s side, actually_
> 
> _But no, neither, jet lag feels like a herd of wildebeest ran over me and I forgot to set my alarm_
> 
> _I’m almost there_

Good. As long as no one knocked, she could just stick it out until he arrived. She opened a game on her phone and was halfway into a round when another message came through:

> _Wait_
> 
> _Are you at the party?_

_Live and in person_

_I’m hiding out in the bathroom right now just to be on the safe side_

> _I’ll come find you._

As she was hesitating over which emoji to send—or if one was necessary at all; she didn’t want to come across as desperate to keep up the conversation—came the sound of the doorknob rattling, followed by a firm knock. Stifling a groan, she quietly went to the toilet and flushed it, then ran the water in the sink for a minute to at least pretend she hadn’t just been using the bathroom as an easy escape. “Sorry,” she said as she unlocked and opened the door, “it’s all yours.”

“No thanks,” Josh Matthews said, eyes laughing when she looked up, startled. “I think I’m okay for now.”

Maya clenched the knob, swaying casually against the door to hide the fact that her knees had suddenly turned to Jell-O. “Oh, in that case, I might just go back in and finish the level I was playing, if you don’t mind waiting.”

“Nah,” he said. “What’s it been, three years? Ten? Five minutes is nothing.”

But he knew as well as she did that she hadn’t meant it, and they stood there on either side of the bathroom door just...looking at each other. A voice in the back of her head said anyone watching would probably be hardcore judging, but the rest of her told the voice to shut up and enjoy the view. It wasn’t one she got to see very often. He looked good, much better than the last time she saw him in person; he had been too thin ever since he left his mom’s cooking, but obviously whatever he was eating in Africa was better for him than what he fed himself as a starving college student. The pinched, worried look had vanished, too, letting his grin fill his face the way she remembered it from the Christmas he had sauntered into Riley’s apartment and Maya’s heart. Yeah, he looked good, all right. Boing, as always.

After a second, he rubbed his hand over his hair and darted his eyes down the hall. “So, it’s important you know _I_ know it’s creepy when guys wait outside the bathroom for a girl, but it seemed like the best way to run into each other.”

She shrugged. “I told you where I was, so it’s probably okay. And it keeps me out of the danger zone, so.”

“Where’s the danger zone?” 

“It moves around,” she sighed. “Shmoozing, bragging, all that jazz. I haven’t run into it so far, but I don’t have a lot of hope that will last all night." 

“I bet it will.”

She looked up at him skeptically.

“Well,” he said, “I’m a lot taller than you are; I can see over crowds. Stick with me and we’ll do our best.”

He stuck out his hand, palm up, inviting her to take it. Maya had a brief, ridiculous impulse to make a comment about their six weeks’ difference—still technically and barely within, since his birthday was in a few days—but clamped it back and put her hand into his clasp. This was normal, even if he had callouses she didn’t remember; now he’d remind her of the Long Game and they’d both know that today they were just going to be friends who maybe someday might be something else. That was what they always did. That was what they had to do to stay as they were.

So when he didn’t say anything at all, just pulled her back into the mosh-pit of a party, she didn’t quite know what to think.

As expected, the party with Josh was a hundred times better than the party without Josh. For one thing, he actually managed to get her some food and a drink—she had been avoiding the refreshments, knowing for a fact Ethan would be hovering around the table like a hummingbird—for another, having his height made it easier for her to flit out of sight if necessary. She even managed a nice conversation with Farkle and Smackle, since the combined tall power of Farkle and Josh hid her from both Ethan and Riley. But more than that—gosh, there was just something about _him_. Always had been, as long as she’d known him. Even as a completely stupid teenage boy, he had drawn her attention like Rothko’s paintings; look long enough at the simple shades, and you started to see the universe open up. And now? He _demanded_ it. Not by anything he said or did, but just by being himself.

Oh, she was in trouble.

About an hour after he had come to find her in the bathroom, he pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time. “When did you get here?”

“About a half-hour before you.”

“Is Riley expecting you to be here all night?”

“Usually, yes. But since she wasn’t officially expecting me at all, she made other arrangements for the clean-up." 

“Do you want to...” He pressed his lips together, looking somewhere over her shoulder and running a hand over his hair. “Riley told me you guys have a thing after the party, but I wondered if maybe, you might want to—”

“Maya? Maya Hunter? Is that you?”

Maya could feel her face go white, and Josh stopped what he was saying to give her a concerned look. “Is that him?” he asked, barely moving his mouth. She nodded, just as small. “Okay. Do you trust me?”

“Yeah,” she said, not even having to think about it, “but—”

He was moving before she could finish her sentence, placing one hand on her shoulder as he changed from facing her to standing behind her in two long strides. Then, quicker than a heartbeat—if her heart was still beating—he crossed his arms over her collarbones and pulled her back into his chest, almost resting his chin on the top of her head. She could feel his breath against her spine and her hair. She hoped desperately he couldn’t feel hers.

He had done it so quickly that Ethan and _Kyah_ still had to fight their way past two people to be within hearing distance. Maya gratefully took that time to paste the kind of smile she expected she would have if she was actually being cuddled by her—what relationship were they pretending here, exactly?—and had relaxed enough to act almost natural when the two people she was trying to avoid came up. “Ethan,” she said through a wall of teeth, “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Yeah, I was kinda surprised to get the invite,” her ex said, “but I figured if Riley was asking it was probably okay to come. And I wanted to introduce Kyah around. Have you met her?”

Since Kyah was not the girl Ethan had cheated on her with but the one he started dating after she turned him down once and for all Maya had not made her acquaintance, so she detached one hand from the pile hers had (somehow) made with Josh’s and shook the other woman’s hand limply. “No, but I saw your wedding pictures on Insta. I really liked your flowers.” Both Ethan and Kyah’s smiles grew a little strained. Behind her, Maya felt Josh snort. “And this is Josh. He’s—”

“Maya’s fiancé.”

In the stunned silence that followed, Josh stuck his free hand around her into the space between them. Kyah, who had no particular reason to be surprised, recovered first. “Kyah,” she said, shaking, “this is my husband Ethan.”

“Yeah, Ethan,” Josh said, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Barely smiling at all anymore, Ethan managed a surprising amount of shade in just a few words: “So I guess you’re _Josh_ , Riley’s uncle.”

“Oh, so Maya’s talked about me, too? Only good things, I hope.” 

She didn’t need to see Josh to know he was grinning cockily. Like she had ever, in her life, said anything bad about Josh Matthews. He knew it, and Ethan knew it. “Josh just came back from Burundi,” she said instead. “He’s been there a few years, working with a non-profit.” 

“Ohhh,” said Kyah, “is that why you don’t have a ring?”

Maya glanced down at their fingers, which were tangled together and, yeah, definitely bare. Without letting her go, Josh dropped one of his arms from her shoulders and moved around her left side, leaving their hands clasped and resting on her right shoulder. “Yeah,” he nodded, loose and easy. “It wasn’t really planned, but as soon as I saw her I just...knew. And I didn’t want to wait any more.”

Kyah made an _aww_ face. “When it’s right, it’s right, you know? There’s no reason to drag it out for years and years if you know what you want from the beginning.” 

“That’s so true,” Josh said, “I mean, sometimes there’s reasons, but when you’re both responsible adults—” 

“Right.” Ethan slung his arm around his wife, pulling her into his side; beneath his caterpillar eyebrows, his eyes were hot with satisfaction. “And that’s what actually happened. Because you guys have been kind of complicated for like ten years, right? The thing is, babe”—he turned his head but not his gaze to Kyah—“Maya’s had a thing for Josh since she was like fourteen, but he’s older so he never went for her. Then he went to Africa and she got tired of waiting. But I guess it worked out, in the end.”

That total _tool_. Maya had only told him about Josh, briefly, when Ethan wouldn’t quit interrogating her about her history with Farkle—Farkle, of all people, who had been with Smackle since forever and would probably explode rather than be disloyal!—looking back, that should have been a sign to dump him and stat. Even then she had only provided the bare facts: that she had had a major thing for Josh, but that the timing had never worked and she was okay with it. Except Ethan got all butt-hurt about it, like she was just biding her time with him while she waited for something better to come along, and while that ended up being true it hadn’t been at the time. She and Josh both knew “someday” meant “maybe, or maybe never;” the rules of the Long Game only required a continued confidence that somewhere in the world, another person was always on their side. What happened romantically almost didn’t matter. And they had known, too, that living life might mean other people, and if it did those relationships wouldn’t be placeholders. Neither of them would play with people’s hearts. Josh was a Matthews, and Maya came from Stayers; they both had been taught that relationships should be for keeps as long as they could remember. Ethan, though, clearly never learned that lesson.

Ignoring Kyah, who was eyeing her like gum stuck to your shoe when you get off the subway, Maya held Ethan’s eyes until his triumph dimmed uneasily. “That’s not true.” 

“If you say so,” Ethan said, shifting his gaze to the side, “but that’s how I remember it.”

Maya didn’t move. “Oh, that’s okay, sweetie. I get that you might not understand how a person doesn’t have to act on every whim they have right away.”

Ethan glared daggers. Josh’s fingers twisted around hers, squeezing gently. “Yeah, you totally misunderstood that. It’s probably not your fault. I bet Maya only told you her side of the story.”

“Is there another one?” asked Kyah when Ethan declined to respond.

“There always is,” Josh said. “In this case, it’s that I’ve had a thing for Maya since she was about fifteen, but since I was eighteen it was illegal and weird, so we agreed to wait and see what happened. And then she graduated from high school right as I was moving away—not that it would have been good to do anything then, either. You remember being eighteen; you need to be able to try everything. I didn’t want to get in the way of her life, and I had stuff I needed to do too, and that was fine. My feelings didn’t go away, they just...fermented.”

“They went bad?” Kyah asked, her tone just this side of a scoff.

“Only if you think wine is bad,” Josh said, patented Matthews ‘I have better manners than you do so I will be kind’ voice on. “Personally, I like it. I just went about my life and Maya lived hers, and all the time how I felt about her kept getting stronger the longer I didn’t do anything about it. And finally I just decided, ‘you know? Maya’s worth waiting for until the time is really right.’ And when I heard she wasn’t with anyone and knew I was coming back, I figured the time is right now.” He shrugged like it was obvious.

“Just now,” Ethan said skeptically. “You had feelings for her for the last ten years, and you just decided right now is the time to act on them.”

Maya’s breath caught in her chest. There was no way she wouldn’t hear his answer, but she leaned closer to him anyway—all at once she was that fourteen-year-old girl standing in a dorm room, throwing her heart on the ground between them with the fierce hope she pretended she didn’t have that he would bend down and pick it up—

“Yeah,” Josh said. “And actually, if you’ll excuse us, we were about to take off—you just got married, so I’m sure you understand.”

“Totally.” Kyah looked grateful for an out, slipping out from Ethan’s arm to grab his hand and start to pull him away. “So anyway, nice to meet you, wish you all the best, happy Valentine’s day.”

The crowd quickly swallowed them up. Maya untangled her fingers from Josh’s as soon as she lost sight of Ethan and Kyah, so quickly that she would’ve felt bad about it if he wasn’t doing the same. No longer attached to her, he took a step away and put his left hand on the back of his neck. “So I think we really do have to leave now—sorry. Or not. Maybe not. But people might want to ask us about—you know—the engagement.”

“And I would probably want to talk about it,” she said, feeling like a wrung-out washcloth, “if it was, you know, real.”

“I’m—” he started, but suddenly she realized she didn’t want to hear his apology, and she took the hand hanging at his side and started for the door.

“You’ve got a coat, I assume.”

“It’s February in New York, and it’s summer in Africa. I have two coats. Maya—” 

“Just wait, Josh.” She stopped moving until she had his attention—it took longer than it usually did, but once she had it she knew she had all of it. “Wait,” she said again. “We need to talk, but not here.”

He nodded agreement, and they didn’t speak again until they were bundled in their coats and on the sidewalk outside Riley’s apartment building. “I can’t stand out here,” Josh said, blinking miserable against the snow getting caught in his eyelashes. “I’m soft now. I need to be inside.”

“I figured,” Maya said. “I know a place.”

They didn’t hold hands on the way to the coffee shop Maya had decided to have this out in. Her hands were cold and would have appreciated stealing some of his warmth, but she needed about three minutes by herself in her head to figure out what, exactly, had just happened. Not that she could totally ignore him, shuffling gingerly along beside her. Not with the memories of his hand on her shoulder, his arms around her, his cologne mingled with the smell of her shampoo. _Stop it_ , she told herself fiercely, and was not surprised to hear herself answer _no._

Josh’s eyebrows went up when he saw where they stopped. “Not Topanga’s?”

“I don’t want to be interrupted,” she said, “and I always am there, by somebody. And I think Ava Morgenstern is working tonight, so—”

“I get it,” he grimaced. “What do you want to drink?”

She dropped her purse from her shoulder to her arm, flipping back the flap to dig for her wallet. “Coffee, but I can get it.”

The tips of his fingers, landing lightly on her knuckles, gave her the shivers all the same. Not because they were cold. “Let me?” 

She nodded, slinging her bag back over her shoulder and staring at the menu board like she didn’t get the same thing every time she was here. Not a big deal for him to buy her coffee, friends did it for each other all the time, it was just a normal thing...just because it had never happened before didn’t mean it couldn’t happen now. They were both adults. She was a starving artist. It was fine. 

But sitting across from each other at a tucked-away table for two, love songs crooning over the speakers and hearts in their foam, it didn’t feel fine.

Josh stared into his latte, eyebrows furrowed. “So,” he said. “Um, I don’t really know how to start with...all that. It kind of started rolling faster than I meant it to. I’m sorry.”

She took a slow sip of her coffee. “Are you?”

“Yeah, of course.” He leaned forward, wiggling the table; some of his drink sloshed onto his hand, but he just shook it off unconcernedly. “You said you trusted me, but I took it pretty far, and then I said a bunch of stuff to someone you probably would prefer didn’t know any of it. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Earnest, like all the Matthews. Good to the core, too. Maya turned her coffee cup around by its handle, watching the light bounce off the glaze. “I forgive you. You were trying to help.”

“Sometimes trying to help makes things worse,” he said.

“Yeah,” she agreed, “but _trying_ means you care, underneath, and that means something.”

She took another sip. He did not, watching her. “So...”

“So.” She put her cup back down, not expecting to pick it back up again for a while. “How much of it was a lie?”

“Of what?”

“You know what.”

“We aren’t engaged.”

“Stop it,” she said, “how much of the rest?”

His eyes dropped to the table between them and his head sunk between his shoulders until, she thought somewhat distractedly, if he hadn’t taken off his beanie he would resemble a very handsome turtle. Maya waited, again, still—it seemed like she had been waiting most of her life for Josh Matthews, even when she managed to convince herself otherwise. But she hadn’t pushed him before—not really—and she wouldn’t this time, either, even if it kind of felt like her heart was going to fall out of her mouth. “Josh?” she said finally, when half of “And I Will Always Love You” had come and gone. “How much?”

He raised his head then, showing her sheepish eyes but a mouth with a firm line. And she knew what he wasn’t saying. Knew, in fact, that he wasn’t going to say anything at all. “Josh,” she said again, totally stunned. 

As though they were playing a game of statues, her freeze seemed to bring him back to life. “I didn’t plan it, I swear,” he said, like the flood of people crossing the street when their light turned green, “until you told me you and Ethan had broken up I thought you were still with him. I thought that was why we weren’t talking like we used to.” She shook her head, just enough that he could see it, and he mirrored her. “I mean, it was my fault too. I didn’t want to hear about it if you were still with him. I hated his guts from afar. He so clearly didn’t deserve you.”

“Clearly,” she agreed. “And you do?”

“I don’t know about that—actually I don’t think that’s a thing you can say about people—never mind. We can talk about that another time.”

“We can. Because right now we’re talking about...”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “What would you say we’re talking about?”

“I don’t know, you’re the one with all the information here. I only know my side of the story.”

“Yeah.” The smile disappeared. “Why did you stop talking to me, Maya?”

“Because I broke up with Ethan, and you—” She pressed her lips together, trying to think of the right way to say it. “I knew if I went to you, I wouldn’t be able to stop. And you...this is more important than that.”

“It is.” He nodded again, running his hands through his hair. “It’s always been important, but it feels more...more. Than it was. At least to me.”

“Like wine.”

He ducked his head, rueful grin returning. “I admit, I stole that from one of the guys I talked to about this. As soon as he said it the whole thing made sense.”

“You talked about me to your friends?”

“Some,” he said, “but not as much as I wanted to. I was trying to be cool.”

“You’re not that cool, Josh.”

“I know,” he sighed, “Matthews can never be cool. It’s our cross to bear in life.”

“But you’re good,” she said, reaching out to brush her fingers quickly against his shoulder. Before she could take her hand away, he reached up and caught it in his own, bringing them both to rest on the table.

“I don’t want to marry you,” he said, and she opened her mouth to protest in pretend indignation until he shut her up fast by adding, “or, I don’t know, maybe I do. Probably shouldn’t decide yet. But I meant everything else I said tonight. I’m done with waiting. You are worth every single second and if you don’t want to do this now, we can go back two spaces and pretend none of this happened—until you’re ready, or forever, if that’s what you want. But I’m not too old for you anymore, and I think I’d like to stop playing the Long Game, and start playing Life.”

She looked down at their clasped hands—just like she had done all those years ago—and felt the same bright bird beating its wings in its chest. Only this time, it was a whole flock of birds, because he knew why he let her hold his hand, and he was holding hers right back. And if she wanted, he would never let go. “That’s a pretty good speech, Boing,” she said. Almost laughed, really. “Was that spur of the moment too, or—”

“No, I wrote most of that after we texted a few weeks ago,” he admitted, that slow grin spreading across his face. She felt its twin beam out from her own. “Wasn’t expecting to use it so soon, but you didn’t tell me you’d be at the party.”

“When _were_ you expecting to use it?”

“I thought I’d call you after my birthday, ask you out. So you would know that the three years didn’t matter.”

“But you had to go and open your big mouth tonight,” she said, actually laughing now. Those unbridgeable three years, crossed just like that! She couldn’t believe it.

He laughed too, as much as he ever did. “That was your fault, not mine! You had to go being so gorgeous. I said it was over as soon as I saw you.”

“That wasn’t a lie?”

“None of it was.”

“Except that you don’t want to marry me,” she said as seriously as she could manage, knocking his knee under the table.

But he lifted his other hand from his lap and set it open between them. “I don’t know,” he said, no trace of a joke on his face. “All I know is I never want you to not be in my life.”

Cards on the table, she thought, and intertwined their fingers, bringing their hands together between them. “I don’t want that either.”

“Good.” He grinned at her, a smile that reached his eyes and turned into a new promise. “So—maybe someday.”

When Maya finally thought to check her phone as they left the café a few hours later, there were about a million texts from Riley, starting with _hey did you leave?_ and ending with _TELL ME YOU’RE ALIVE AND THEN TELL ME WHY YOU’RE MISSING THE MEET-UP MISSY_

_I’m alive_ , she texted back, awkwardly since Josh would only let her have one hand free, _I’m with Josh._

> _That’s fine then._
> 
> _Wait_
> 
> _with Uncle Josh or With Uncle Josh_

“Is it cool to tell her?” she asked.

“Why not?”

“She’ll never let us hear the end of it.”

“That’s my niche,” he said, burrowing into his coat and putting their clasped hands into his pocket. “But I don’t want to hear the end of it, do you?”

_Both_ , she responded instantly.

> _WHAT_
> 
> _WHEN_
> 
> _HOW_
> 
> _I KNEW IT_
> 
> _AREN’T YOU GLAD YOU CAME TO THE PARTY NOW_
> 
> _[kermityay.gif]_

_Very_ , Maya said. _Thank you, Peaches. I’m gonna ignore you now, k?_

> _BY ALL MEANS._

Maya set her phone to silent, put it back in her purse, and smiled up at Josh. “Ready?”

“Let’s roll the dice,” he said. “Or no, wait, the Game of Life has a spinner, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she said, “but if we want to keep playing the Long Game, I’m still in it with you.”

And then he—well, safe to say, she was really glad he had held out for a better deal than holding hands for six weeks every year. Really glad, indeed.


End file.
